


From History To The Page To Life Again

by afteriwake



Category: DC Extended Universe, Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Diana (Wonder Woman) Is A Published Author, Diana (Wonder Woman) Needs a Hug, F/M, Fade to Black, Hugs, Immortal Steve Trevor, Kissing, Not Wonder Woman 1984 Compliant, Past Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor, Post-Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Post-Canon, Post-Justice League (2017), Post-Wonder Woman (2017), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Steve Trevor Lives, Writer Diana (Wonder Woman)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: When Diana gets the overwhelming urge to write the story of the life she and Steve should have had, she never expects the blessings that she is given for telling that story to the world.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	From History To The Page To Life Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Headfulloffantasies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Headfulloffantasies/gifts).



> Written for **Headfulloffantasies** for the Wondertrev Holiday Exchange at Tumblr. I wasn't sure what they would like for Wondertrev specifically, but they seemed to love writing and being a writer so I decided to incorporate that. Hope you enjoy!

It had come to her, from time to time, to sit down and write about her life. Ever since the fight with Doomsday, she knew Bruce had questions, and then the others were brought in, and exactly how often would she have to explain her life from Themyscera to now? So one night, she sat and thought about what to write to describe her life, without giving away too many secrets.

What she had intended to do was write an outline of thoughts of important moments in her life.

What she ended up doing was writing her love story.

Not the story of her and Steve that had been, but the one they had deserved. Where the gods had been kind and gifted him with immortality, and they lasted from the first World War, walking away from the battle with Ares without too many scratches, content to be in each others company as the Armistice was told, celebrating the end of the war together with Chief and Charlie and Sameer and Etta. All the things they should have had.

And she locked herself in her apartment, writing and writing and writing, imagining this life full of joy and sadness that she could have had with Steve, that she deserved but not only that, that she felt the world deserved. It wasn’t always a happy story, but it wasn’t sad, either. Bittersweet at times, yes, but mostly hopeful. Mostly happy.

And two weeks later she found herself with a word count to rival J.R.R. Tolkien, an old friend of hers, though perhaps not as eloquently written.

She leaned back in her chair, stretching and trying to get more feeling in her hands. It would do no good if she sat on this saga. Steve deserved to be shared with the world. Their story, all that could have been...the world should know. The world needed hope and love and light in these dark times.

After all, she wasn’t hiding in the shadows anymore. Her love shouldn’t either.

**\--–**

It surprised her how quickly it became an international phenomenon, the first book in the series. She was being asked to talk all over the world about the story, and her life with the Justice League, and soon she was asked to be an ambassador of peace by the UN, and her life became full of hope and light in a way it hadn’t for so long.

Still, a part of her felt empty. A part of her missed the physical presence of the man she loved, as she had for nearly a hundred years, though the pang wasn’t as sharp anymore. He lived on in her words, and in her dreams, and for the most part, that was enough for her.

But...perhaps not enough for others.

**\--–**

She awoke to the realization she was not in her home alone.

She got out of bed and reached for the dagger she kept under her pillow. The television was on, channels being flipped through with some mumbling. Why on earth someone would break into her home simply to watch the television, she didn’t know, but they might think twice upon seeing her with a blade.

But the blade dropped in shock when she saw the familiar blonde hair and profile that she had woken up to one snowy morning in Belgium. He was there. He was whole and breathing and not blown up in a plane over her head over a military base. He was _there_. He was with her again, unless this was some trick.

“You would think that if they’d bring me back and stick me in the future, they’d at least let me know where the hell they put me,” he said weakly before she rushed forward and embraced him. He was warm and solid and smooth and even though he was in modern clothing, he still smelled the way he had in her dreams and in her arms all those years ago. He embraced her back, burying his nose in her hair and then, after a moment, their lips found each other and she melted into him.

“Steve...” she said quietly when they pulled apart to breathe, foreheads resting against each other, mere inches between them. “How?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “Thought I was in heaven, turned out there’s more gods than Ares that had an interest in me. Some muse visited you, and Aphrodite felt love radiating and I don’t know everything but I was pulled out of heaven and sent here with knowledge of the last hundred or so years in my head and they couldn’t even tell me where I ended up. I figured I’d turn on the television and find out but it’s all in French and--”

She cut him off with a kiss, trying not to cry and laugh at the same time. Calliope or Clio, she couldn’t be sure who had blessed her in her writing frenzy, but she knew that she would be forever thankful to the Muses and Aphrodite for the gift that meant so much more to her than she imagined even they knew. And then she realized it; there was something different about him. He wasn’t a regular human. Not anymore.

He was blessed by the gods, and could that mean…?

“Yeah, I’m immortal,” he said, and she pulled him into her embrace again, knowing that each touch would last for seconds or moments but now she had the rest of her existence to touch him, to feel him, to savor this gift she had been blessed with. “Your story...it called to someone, somewhere, with some major power.”

“And I will thank them for the rest of my life,” she said, shutting her eyes. She held onto him tightly as he held onto her, but soon they moved and were kissing again. She had the feeling that there would be so much more of that and so many more things in her future, which was suddenly as bright as the sun and filled with all the promise true love could bring.


End file.
